real to real

from early to mid-‘90s, wednesday night was “industry night” at sound factory bar, a modest club with a booming system located just up the block from the infamous limelight. “industry night” was basically a networking opportunity for nyc’s then thriving indie house music scene. as lil’ louie vega worked the decks, it’s not unusual to find a+r gurus like kevin williams (maxi/eightball/nervous), david chan (emotive), and gladys pizarro (strictly rhythm) mixing it up with frankie knuckles, danny tenaglia, roger sanchez, and other clubland celebs. it was a necessary weekly pilgrimage for anyone serious about house music. the crowd was mixed and the vibe was positive and energetic; if nothing else, you could always catch some great new tunes and dance until dawn.

the bar’s relatively loose door policy reflected its casual but music-centric flavor. not that anyone can get in; michael alig et. al., for instance, pretty much stayed away, and same goes for the bridge + tunnel crowd, but that’s not usually a problem on a week night. in short, it’s not as much a policy of exclusion as a matter of fit. if you’re looking for anything other than cutting-edge house music, you probably could have found a better place to spend your 5 bucks.

the doors were usually manned by rob, frankie knuckle’s barrel-chested flame at the time, or willie ninja. i knew about willie from jenny livingston’s 1991 oscar-winning documentary “paris is burning” but for the first year i went to the bar, we were just passing acquaintances. then on one snowy night with few people out, we got to talking and i learned that he lives with his mama in flushing and is a serious student of asian pop culture (he first clued me in on the work of the godfather of modern hong kong cinema tsui hark through movies like “peking opera blues” and the seminal “once upon a time in china” series, as well as the little hole-in-the-wall near the port authority that sold boots of them way before j. hoberman of the voice started writing about them). i also learned that he is a sweet, sensitive man who above all is an incredible optimist.

i’ve seen “paris is burning” several more times after i’ve gotten to know willie better, and with each viewing my respect for him grew. to this day, it still amazes me how he literally reinvented himself through sheer force of will. in spite of the success of the movie, many of willie’s contemporaries, like pepper labeija, freddie pendavis, and the tragic venus xtravaganza, were quickly forgotten and either died or receded back to the margin of society. willie, however, through his charisma and his role as a pioneer of vogueing, was able to transform himself from a gawky black kid from queens to a much in-demand commodity who performed for the king of spain, taught madonna dance moves, and help trained countless top models and wannabes like iman and the always-annoying paris hilton to walk that catwalk with confidence and sass.

willie likes to give people food-related nicknames. at various times, he had called me "dumpling" or "cha-su-bao (bbq pork bun)," and had called toro, my partner in oxygen, who is about old-skool macho puerto rican as you can get, "rice and beans." while they may sound vaguely racist, these nicks were always used with genuine affection, partly because willie really loves good food. it is also a way, i believe, for him to confront people with his homosexuality. toro, for instance, was initially very uncomfortable with willie’s sexual openness. “i don’t like that shit, man,” i remember him muttering to me. but with time, like so many others, he got over it and came to appreciate willie for the decent and loving person he is.

all the more reason i have a hard time understanding, much less forgiving the rampant homophobia in hip hop. the well-worn cliché “keepin’ it real” has a different meaning for kids like willie (check cheryl lynn’s ball anthem “got to be real,” columbia, 1978), who grew up burdened with the “three strikes” of being black, male, and gay. the whole ball culture is about striving for a verisimilitude of what society at large considers as “real” or socially acceptable identities – business exec, soldier, model, etc. while this is the polar opposite of the currently fashionable mentality in hip hop that celebrates the length of one's rap sheet or the number of times one had been shot, it is still about struggling against our society’s tendency to marginalize those who are different. i fail to see the difference between the dream that a kid in compton may have about being a platinum-selling rap star and the dream that willie articulated about another, better life in “paris is burning.”

i used to tease willie about that film and being a movie star. one day, as we were walking up roosevelt avenue in flushing to one of his favorite chinese restaurants the subject came up again. he hesitated, turned to me and said quietly, “you know, i have done everything i said i was going to do in that movie.”

the gumbel and huff-penned “love is the message” by mfsb features one of the classic breaks in house music: a walking bassline and 4/4 swingbeat that’s been appropriated by everyone from vince montana jr. (“heavy vibes,” philly sound works, 1982) to salsoul orchestra (“oh, i love it (love break),” shep pettibone remix, salsoul, 1983) to madonna ("vogue," warner, 1989), and many others. it fuels some of the most compelling dance scenes in “paris is burning.” “love’s theme” by h is a cover of the love unlimited orchestra classic that i released in 1994. it was remixed by kazuhiko gomi, junior vasquez’s programmer and one of the unsung heroes of the new york club scene (that’s another entry). i did the only sensible thing for something that strikes such a balanced pose between camp and sincerity: i got willie to do his barry white imitation on it.

Posted by cellpharmer at January 26, 2005 10:57 PM